


A Glass Paradise I Have Reaped

by writingsofa_hobbit



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elrond Halfelven - Freeform, F/M, JRR Tolkien - Freeform, Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit - Freeform, elrond - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:00:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9098698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingsofa_hobbit/pseuds/writingsofa_hobbit
Summary: The reader is an assassin sent by the Necromancer to murder the Lord Elrond of Imladris disguised as an advisor. As time passes, the reader falls deeply in love with Elrond, and, in turn, Elrond falls for her, but when the reader leaves Imladris, unable to complete her task, it is up to Elrond to convince her to come back into his arms, so he can protect her and love her for eternity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For onceuponapossibilty on tumblr...

The assassin’s heart melted and turned to love, as her gaze lingered avidly upon the ebony-haired lord from the chair upon which she sat placidly, obscuring the volatile war between the child who fantasized the tranquility of a life filled with love and a vagabond whose fear was evident in every decision, every thought, behind a frigid, emotionless mask. How was a heart once ruled by trepidation and animosity suddenly compelled to defy all she had ever known for the survival of the ellon who had struck her soul in ways she never thought possible and in ways he would never have known existed, in the span of a few months. It was love, it had to be.

Ever since Y/N had arrived in Imladris disguised as an advisor sent by King Thranduil of the Mirkwood realm to serve Lord Elrond, her heart had sustained a vigorous attraction to the lord, making all attempts to end his life futile. But in doing so, Y/N put herself in danger, for if she did not kill him, she would be slain by the evil of Mordor, in replacement of the lord.

The weight of the task was immense as it was, without the aid of the fair, milky skin, the mellifluous tone in which he spoke or the look of pure kindness that garnished his stormy eyes like wonderous stars in the inky black above, a look that he had bestowed upon her many a time. The hours the pair had spent conversing only allowed her feelings to strengthen as she was enlightened upon Elrond’s desires, his weaknesses, his past…everything.

Y/N, the assassin who had never known a stable home, a loving family, a full stomach, was unshakably in love with Lord Elrond of Imladris, and it would be the death of her… if she was to carry out the perfidious intentions she plotted as she gazed longingly at the elegant face of whom she was meant to murder.

-

Sometime after the congregation of the council, Elrond scoured all of Imladris in search for Y/N, unable to find her, even in the locations at which the pair had loved to read tales of old, or tranquilize each other’s worries or provide another lonely soul to converse with into the youthful hours of the morn, the locations at which Elrond’s heart had fallen hopelessly in love with the elleth.

Only did he stop his searching when he heard the voice of his minstrel, dulcet and clear above all else, begging Elrond to ease his worries and retire to his chambers.

“My lord,” Lindir’s dulcet voice soothed, “please stop burdening yourself with this trivial controversy. Fatigue has probably gotten the best of Lady Y/N, leaving her in her chambers. I am sure she is fine, my lord.”

“I suppose that is a more likely situation out of the ones that have plagued my mind,” Elrond sighed, finally giving into his own lethargy, “Thank you, Lindir, for easing my frantic mind.”

“It was not a problem, my lord,” Lindir assured as Elrond gave him a brief smile before walking off in the direction of his chambers, the longing for the warmth of a blazing fire in the hearth and a bed and covers under which he could rest at the front of his mind.

Unfortunately, as Elrond entered his chambers, a piece of folded parchment upon his desk, one that had not been there that morn, caught his eye. Little did Elrond know that that parchment, brittle in some places from droplets of water that had fallen from the author’s eyes and wet in others from blots of dark ink not yet dried, would be the source from which Elrond’s mind would gather enough strength to lay waste to his glass heart and paper lungs. Little did he know of the impenetrable waves of anxiety, the strong sense of urgency he would experience when his eyes passed over the black scrawl upon that seemingly innocent piece of vellum.  
The parchment was rough beneath his touch as Elrond unfolded the fragile piece, his hands beginning to shake and tears amalgamating in his eyes as the meaning of those words became clear in his mind.

'My Lord Elrond,' they read, 'I apologize sincerely for any trouble I have or will cause you, but my stay in your blessed realm has been long overdue. You see I am not an advisor as I have told you, but rather an assassin sent by the Necromancer to neutralize your existence. I was meant to kill you, or I would be slain myself. I did not think the task so difficult at the time, but that was before my heart betrayed me, and befriended the beautiful mind and bountiful soul that is you. You rule your small haven with the kindest touch and I do not have the heart to take such a truly good, and honest leader from his people and realm. Your life means so much more than mine, therefore, I have left to proclaim my failures to the Necromancer in hopes that you will be spared. By the time you read this, I will be on my way to Dol Guldor. Farewell, Elrond, melamin, please do not let my efforts be all for naught.'

The tears that had pooled in his eyes only moments before, now streamed down the lord’s face but not from betrayal but from pure sorrow at the thought of the finesse being that was Y/N thinking so lowly of her existence.

Goodbye, my love, Y/N.'

I cannot let her carry through with this, Elrond reflected, tucking the letter into his pocket and stalking off with the full force of a vigorous storm as his robes fluttered about behind him, the dark tendrils of ebony hair that hung about his shoulders soon relocating themselves behind his shoulders. Tears still forging new paths upon his cheeks.  
Elrond rapped upon the wooden door, and when he got no response he made to leave for the stables when he was abruptly interrupted by Lindir.

“My lord!” Lindir squeaked, terror filling his eyes at the rivers that poured from his lord’s, “why ever are you weeping?!”

“Y/N…” Elrond gasped, realizing how riven his voice was with sorrow, “she has left for Dol Guldur and surely her death.”

“And you want to go after, I presume, my lord?”

“Yes, mellon, I-I am afraid-”

“Hush, my lord, I know” Lindir assured, placing a gentle hand upon Elrond’s shoulder, a knowing smile upon his lips, “I will prepare parties of guards to look for her.”

“Thank you, Lindir,” I breathed, managing what I could of a shattered smile.

And with that the frantic lord set off for the stables, nothing but the love for the elleth in his heart and mind.

-

The snapping of my hair and silks in the wind were the only signs I was upon racing horseback rather than finding myself immobile, frigid with apprehension, a replica of my heart and soul as I thought of the danger my beloved was facing.  
Y/N, why would you value your life so little, you beautiful epitome, you exquisite quintessence of Illuvatar’s creations, I thought as I made haste in the direction of Dol Guldur.

I had to find her, to persuade her to stay with me, in my arms, in Imladris. She was worth the world to my fragile heart, and I could not let her go, my heart had suffered enough.

And only when my surroundings became indefinite as tears spilled without restraint from my eyes, did I hear the sobs, the dreary melancholy sobs that held the force of a flooding waterfall after a month’s worth of heavy downpour. A downpour of sombre misery and pessimism of seemingly unshared emotions.

Could it be her?

I harshly pulled at the reins, maneuvering my horse in the direction of the melancholy as it grew stronger with every beat of my horse’s hooves. Only did I halt when I was met with the form of a weeping woman on horseback, my Y/N, shrouded in tattered rags that had not been replaced in the last few decades. Her appearance made my heart ache. Not from repulsion-mind you-but from seeing her reduced to less than she was, what her existence meant to me.

“Y/N.”

-

My tears, hot against my cheeks, were a painful reminder of the paradise I had just reaped and now lamented for dearly. My old uniform, consisting of a well-worn leather jerkin and old trousers whose thinning, umber fibers were riddled with holes and pockmarked with tearing threads, under a grey cloak, awakened a desire to return to the soft silks and fragrant soaps and lavish meals that I had been submerged in for the past few moons. My mind chained the images of the beautiful valley, the beloved haven, around the pieces of my broken heart. Everywhere I had looked, I had gazed upon elegant beauty, whether it had resided in the architecture, the choice of scenery, the flora…anything and everything about the elven city had enraptured me and plagued me with images that I could never forget, even if I wanted to.  
Unfortunately, it was not my want for a home in that quiescent valley that caused my glass heart to shatter, but rather the ellon who ruled it, with passion, with kindness and wisdom. I sobbed at the realization that it was he who made my heart ache so.

“Y/N,” a voice murmured with all the soft tenderness I did not deserve, the familiarity only making my lachrymose strengthen as I looked to the figure still in his formal attire, his raven tendrils still braided, his circlet of gold still upon his brow, his eyes holding a certain sorrow I had not yet witnessed.

“Elrond,” I murmured, “why are you here? Turn back. Go home.”

“No,” Elrond said with such intensity that it made my heart tremor as I flinched involuntarily with his nearing presence, fear overtaking me. His face softened at my reaction, his words flowing in a warmer, more compassionate language, “please…don’t leave, Y/N. You are so beautiful, so kind, so full of this hidden delight that begs to be released. I can’t let you ride to your evident doom, not with a guilty conscious and not without trying to convince you that your life is worth everything to me.

“Y/N, I have fallen in love with you, in this short span of a few passings of the moon and I cannot let you sacrifice yourself to the evil that has tormented you for so long.

“I want you, at my side. And I want to stand by you, and to love you with every ounce of my heart and my soul. Please Y/N, do not do this. You are so, so, much more than what you make of yourself. Come back with me, to Rivendell, where I can protect you from the evils of this world. Please.”

“I bring evil with me, do you not see? Elrond, you are more intelligent than this, I tried to kill you for Illuvatar’s sake. If you house me in Rivendell, harm and ruin will befall your little haven, your realm. He’ll find me, he always does,” I begged, hoping to bring him to the reality of what a danger I was.

Elrond fell gracefully from his horse, lifting his hand to help me down from my own, the look in his eyes begging me to take it, to fall into his arms. I do not know what part   
of me started the rebellion, but I was suddenly overcome with the desperate want for his affection, affection I did not think possible, until now. Until Elrond abandoned his papers, his letters and his meetings, until Elrond found me, proclaimed his love for me, and confirmed all I had dreamed.  
His hand was warm against mine as I grasped it, instantly collapsing against Elrond’s strong form, his arms surrounding me as he staggered slightly with the impact of my frailty. A fervorous kiss was placed against my forehead as I clung to Elrond, my weeping sporadic as he mumbled into my hair, the deepness of his voice slowing my internal warfare ever so slightly.

“Hush, darling, I am here for you now,” he cooed, “and I care not for the evils you may have possessed. Do you not see, guren vell, I do not care what hardships I must endure to keep you safe. I am willing to give my protection to you, melethril nin.”

“Oh, Elrond,” I sobbed worriedly, “you are putting yourself in danger, grave danger.”

“I care not,” Elrond hummed, pulling out of the embrace slightly, the hard stone of his irises, softening to the likeness of a cloudy morning fog, “I will protect you, just as I have Imladris for many a century. I promise you, no harm will befall you.”

Tears stung my eyes, and hope took me by storm as I whispered the words I had always dreaded, but now cherished, “thank you, Elrond, I love you.”

“And I will cherish the flames of your love in the very depths of my soul. Amin mela lle,” Elrond sighed, his eyes holding a fondness that could not be competed with, even if the stars themselves were to descend from the sky to love me, “now let us go home, Y/N, my beloved.”

“Gladly.”


End file.
